


Strange Bedfellows

by MayorHaggar, smutty_claus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-21
Updated: 2017-12-21
Packaged: 2019-02-18 02:10:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13090209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayorHaggar/pseuds/MayorHaggar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/smutty_claus/pseuds/smutty_claus
Summary: After someone attempts to break into Pansy's flat, the best auror in Britain is tasked with guarding her 24/7.  Personally, Pansy would prefer to take her chances with the attacker rather than share her flat with Harry Potter.





	Strange Bedfellows

**To: **flipflop_diva**  
From: Your Secret Santa.**

> **Title:** Strange Bedfellows  
>  **Author:** MayorHaggar  
>  **Pairing:** Harry/Pansy  
>  **Summary:** After someone attempts to break into Pansy's flat, the best auror in Britain is tasked with guarding her 24/7. Personally, Pansy would prefer to take her chances with the attacker rather than share her flat with Harry Potter.  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Length:** 14,333  
>  **Warnings:** None

"Miss Parkinson, please reconsider. We may have gotten here before the perpetrator could make it inside the flat, but until we catch him or her there is always the chance they'll return for another try. It's not secure."

"I'd noticed that, thanks," Pansy said. "The answer's still no." She looked down at the floor, at the shattered glass that had once been a window. She'd had to save for months to pay for the professional-quality wards protecting her flat, but even the strongest wards could be broken if an attacker was sufficiently talented and determined. Whoever had attacked her flat had plenty of both, but fortunately the wards had held long enough for the aurors to arrive in response to the automatic alarm feature.

"I understand that you're attached to your flat, but--"

"You don't understand a thing about me, _sir_ ," she snapped. She found a sliver of pleasure in watching Proudfoot recoil. He was certainly playing the part of the concerned and professional Head Auror well enough, but she wasn't fooled. Five years of being stared at, of having people point and whisper when she walked into a shop, of having particularly brazen wizards who would openly glare at her and witches who would hurl various obscenities in her face, had made her standing in this brave new world abundantly clear. Undoubtedly he would complain about having to deal with "that Parkinson bitch" as soon as he got back to his office.

"This is my home, and I won't be intimidated into hiding like some coward," she said defiantly. There were few things in her life she could be proud of, but this flat was one of them. It was _hers_ , purchased with money she'd earned herself after her family had been stripped of everything and sent into poverty after the war. She had less money to her name than any of the Weasleys, she was a social pariah who had to work a menial job far beneath her talent and station, but she'd worked her arse off to make her own way in this world. Anyone who thought to take that away from her was going to have a fight on their hands.

"If you're sure I can't change your mind..." Proudfoot said halfheartedly. He knew it was a lost cause, and likely was relieved that his obligation was almost finished. 

"You can't. I'm not going anywhere." She turned her back to him, effectively ending their conversation. "I have things to do, so you can see yourself out." She walked into her kitchen and pulled out a bottle of Firewhisky Blaise had given her for her birthday. She wasn't a regular drinker, but she had a feeling she'd need it tonight.

\--

Pansy bent her head low over her desk. She finished filling out her final parchment of the day, adding her name and date at the bottom while gripping her quill so tightly she was surprised it didn't snap in half. She would have preferred to whip out her wand and hex every single one of her coworkers. Their faux sympathy about yesterday's attack on her flat had been irritating her from the moment she walked in that morning. What she wouldn't give to be able to show those snide, two-faced hypocrites what she really thought of them! Unfortunately she depended on this stupid job, so she had to settle for seething at her desk.

November was usually a busy time at her office, with many legal contracts being pushed through towards the end of the year, but she'd worked harder than usual today in an effort to escape the office as quickly as she could. Her work now finished, she got up from her chair and walked to the lift as quickly as she could without outright running and drawing attention to herself. She had every intention of apparating home, scheduling an appointment to have the wards on her flat reinforced and upgraded and finishing off that bottle of Firewhisky. Sadly for her, fate had other plans.

She'd only just stepped out of the lift when she found herself face-to-face with Head Auror Proudfoot. That would be bad enough on its own, but there was an even more unwelcome surprise for her. Standing right next to Proudfoot was _him_.

"Excuse me," she said, looking at the ground and trying to step around them. She knew that the chances of Proudfoot dropping by the lowly offices of Borkes' Binding Business Contracts for any reason other than to talk to her about last night's attack were virtually nonexistent, but it was still worth the attempt.

No such luck. "Actually, Miss Parkinson, we're here to speak with you," Proudfoot said before she could maneuver around them. She sighed and reluctantly looked back up. Proudfoot had his best 'professional auror' face on, but his companion looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. She would have sympathized if she didn't hate him so much.

"I appreciate the follow-up, but it really wasn't necessary," she said as pleasantly as she could manage under the circumstances. It was far from her best, but that was to be expected with _him_ standing just a few feet away. "I'm fine, as you can see, and I'm going to make an appointment to have my wards reinforced just as soon as I get home."

"That's a good idea." Proudfoot nodded, and for a moment Pansy dared to hope that might be the end of it. She should have known better. "It won't be enough to satisfy King though." 'King' was Kingsley Shacklebolt, of course. Pansy knew that Proudfoot and the Minister were close.

"Surely the Minister of Magic is too busy to deal with something as small as this," she said, trying to ignore the queasy feeling his words caused. Whatever Kingsley had to say on the matter couldn't be good for her, especially since it seemed to involve _him_ in some way.

"Not at all. He called an emergency meeting at the Ministry this morning just to deal with this." Not good.

"For me? I didn't realize I was so popular," she tried. The panic was really starting to set in now. 

"With respect, Miss Parkinson, I think you're smart enough to understand why the Minister has taken a personal interest in your case."

"Enlighten me." Best to let him get out whatever it was Shacklebolt had sent him to get out, and then she could figure out the best way to respond.

"You really can't understand the politics at play here?" Proudfoot asked. He was staring at her with one eyebrow raised. He seemed legitimately surprised at her confusion, and it made her angry.

"Clearly I'm too stupid to figure it out, so why don't you just say whatever it is you have to say." She narrowed her eyes and glared at the Head Auror, completely ignoring his colleague. That was for the best, because looking at _him_ would just make her even angrier than she already was. Proudfoot cleared his throat awkwardly. 

"The attack on your flat has made many of your fellow purebloods anxious. If the attacker were to come back and injure or kill you, the situation would only get worse." She let out a laugh that was devoid of any humor. 

"'My fellow purebloods?'" she repeated. "Outside of a few loyal friends, my FELLOW purebloods all abandoned me as fast as they could after the war ended!" She momentarily looked away from Proudfoot and directed her glare at his colleague. He met her angry look with a matching glare of his own, so clearly her feelings were mutual.

"I know things have been rough for you, but..."

"Don't even try and pretend that you know what I've been through," she said, cutting Proudfoot off mid-sentence. Some of the other BBBC employees had started to filter out and had stopped to watch, so she stomped over to a stone bench off to the side and took a seat. The two aurors followed her, of course, but at least they weren't putting on a free show for her arsehole co-workers anymore.

"I meant no offense," Proudfoot said quietly. "But with all respect, Miss Parkinson, your personal relationships with your fellow purebloods aren't really important here. You're still one of them, and any harm that comes to you will catch their attention."

"Why? They sure as hell didn't care what happened to me after the war. What makes this any different?" It was not Proudfoot who answered her this time. Instead, his fellow auror spoke for the first time.

"Don't you read the Prophet? Or listen to the wireless?" he asked, looking at her like she was an idiot. She wanted to get up and punch him right on his lightning bolt scar.

"Why would I do that? So I can read the latest cover story about your favorite broomsticks, or listen to a bunch of your mindless fans talk about how LOVELY your hair is? No thank you, Potter!"

Whatever angry retort Potter would have made was cut off by Proudfoot, who was quick to jump in. "Harry is referring to the recent series of attacks on the homes and businesses of prominent pureblood families. You haven't heard about any of those?"

That was news to her. "No. I've been busy with work," she said. She'd actually avoided the papers and the wireless since shortly after the war, when the stories started becoming subtly anti-pureblood. Millicent would share news with her if she thought it was important, but her friend had been on vacation recently and so they hadn't talked for a few weeks. 

"The Greengrass, Goyle, Nott, Yaxley and Flint families have all been targeted within the last month," Proudfoot said. "There have been no physical attacks yet, fortunately, but if this keeps up it's only a matter of time."

Now it was beginning to make sense to Pansy. "I see," she murmured. "That explains why the Minister of Magic has taken such a personal interest in my protection."

An isolated attack on her wouldn't have mattered. Hell, anyone who fought on Potter's side in the war probably would've celebrated if she'd been killed, and not one of her fellow purebloods would have missed her outside of the three true friends she still had. But someone specifically targeting purebloods changed everything. The murder of any pureblood, even the ostracized girl who tried to hand Harry Potter over to You-Know-Who, could very well shatter the fragile peace their world had settled into after the war.

"Indeed." Proudfoot looked relieved now that she understood the situation better. "We can't let anything happen to you, which is why I've come to see you."

"I assume you've told him that I refuse to be chased out of my flat?"

"I did, yes. He told me to make the suggestion again anyway, so I will. I really do think it's in your best interest."

"I won't do it," she said, staring up at him defiantly. "People wanting me dead is nothing new. I'm going to stay in my flat and keep coming to work every day. If this arsehole comes back to try again, I'll be ready for him."

"I told him you'd say as much." Proudfoot sighed. "That's why I brought Mr. Potter along with me today."

"If you thought your golden boy was going to be able to charm me into leaving, you don't know me at all." Potter scowled and muttered under his breath but made no other response.

"No, he's not here to convince you to leave." Proudfoot paused and took a deep breath, causing her to narrow her eyes at him. "He's here to take you home to your flat. And he won't be leaving."

"Excuse me? I must have misheard. There's no way in hell I would ever allow Harry bloody Potter to set foot in my home."

"Like I want to be anywhere near you," Potter said. The former classmates glared at each other until Proudfoot cleared his throat.

"Minister's orders. If I couldn't persuade you to leave your flat and relocate somewhere else where we could protect you more easily, I needed to assign my best field auror to guard you at all times until the case was solved. He'll stay at your flat with you, he'll accompany you to work and remain on the premises until you leave, and he will go with you on any errands you have to run. Where you go, he goes."

"You cannot force me to allow someone into my home when I've done nothing wrong. I have rights." She stared up at Proudfoot, not sure whether to be angry or shocked at this outrage.

"You're right," he conceded. "I can't force you to comply with this plan." She smiled triumphantly, but he wasn't finished. "But I do have the authority to remove you from your home and your job and place you under Ministry protection until we've got everything sorted. Potter will still be your primary guard if you choose this option. The only thing that changes is where the two of you stay and whether or not you can go to work."

"And how is that any more legal than forcing me to let him into my home?" she demanded. "I've done nothing wrong!"

"No, you haven't," he agreed. "You aren't being punished here, Miss Parkinson, however you might feel about it."

"You still haven't answered how any of this is supposed to be legal," she pointed out. "If the Minister is allowing innocent witches to be taken from their homes against their will, how is he any better than You-Know-Who?"

Proudfoot scowled at the slight against his friend. "King is nothing like Voldemort," he ground out. This marked the first time Pansy had seen him angry, and it pleased her. Neither of them deserved any respect or courtesy from her if they were willing to do something like this. "It's not like we can just go around nabbing anyone we please, like the Death Eaters did when they took over the government. We're only given this authority under the most extreme, life-or-death circumstances, where we can't reliably protect someone who's in danger unless we relocate them. Even then, we have to get it approved by three different department heads. With this attacker on the loose and having already hit your flat, that approval was easy to get."

Pansy's shoulders sagged as she let this sink in. There was no way out of this that she could see. Well, she could always draw her wand and make them use force to take her, but she was too pragmatic for that. She was a reasonably skilled duelist, but she wasn't sure she could beat Proudfoot despite being at least twenty years younger, and she fancied her chances against Potter even less. Trying to take them both on at the same time would be pointless even with the element of surprise in her favor.

How did it come to this? All she wanted was to be left alone!

"Does it have to be _Potter_?" she asked. "Couldn't you assign me someone else? Anyone?"

"You heard her, sir," Potter said, agreeing with Pansy for what had to be the first time in his life. "Give her someone else. Why not Davis? They were friends in school, I think." She and Tracey had actually never had a meaningful conversation in their lives, but Pansy wasn't about to say anything that might hurt her chances of getting as far away from Potter as possible. Sadly, Proudfoot dashed those hopes with a shake of his head. 

"Davis' strengths are stealth work and subtle interrogation. She's not the right person for this. If the attacker makes another go of it we need our best and most experienced fighter there and ready to act. That's you. King told me to use my best, and for this assignment you're the best I've got. Now quit letting your personal feelings interfere with your work and go do your job."

In any other scenario Pansy would have delighted at being able to witness everyone's golden hero getting rebuked by his boss right in front of her, but she couldn't take even the slightest pleasure from it. The only person less happy about all of this than Potter was herself.

"Understood," Potter said. One look at his face made it obvious he was still angry, but there wasn't much else he could say.

"Good," Proudfoot said. He gave Potter a short nod, then glanced down at Pansy. "I really am sorry about this. I know it's not what you want. You don't want Potter with you, he doesn't want to be there, and I don't want to have to deal with any of this, but this goes beyond what any of us want." The older man gave her a sympathetic look, which she pointedly ignored.

She got up from the bench and walked over to the apparition point without saying a word to either wizard. Potter silently followed behind her, and without looking back at him, she stuck her hand out behind her so she could side-along him into her home. She grimaced as she felt his hand slip into hers.

She side-alonged him into her sitting room and dropped his hand the moment they arrived. 

"I don't have the money to feed you," she said, standing with her back to him so she didn't have to look at his stupid face. 

"Won't be a problem," he muttered. "The department'll handle that."

"Good. I don't have a spare bed either."

"I'll just transfigure the couch into a bed at night and turn it back in the morning."

"Fine." She walked into her kitchen, relieved he didn't follow her. She ran a hand through her hair and bit her bottom lip hard to keep from screaming at the incredibly shitty turn her life had taken in the last 24 hours.

\--

Pansy was living the life that most witches fantasized about. Wherever she went, so too went Harry Potter. He was there in her flat when she got up in the morning, he was there in the building all day while she was at work, and he was there when she went to sleep at night. His sycophantic fans would've given anything to be in her place, but to her it was hell on earth.

Their daily life had settled into a routine in the week and a half since he'd been forced upon her. Basically they avoided each other as much as possible under the circumstances. They spoke to each other only when absolutely necessary and did their best to give each other space. She spent almost all of her time in her room, and when she came out to eat he made sure to find something to do in another part of the flat. It wasn't ideal, but she could almost pretend that he wasn't even there.

It was a different story at work though. He could give her space in her flat because it was just the two of them there, but he had to stick much closer to her whenever they were around others. His constant presence near her desk was bad enough, but the fascinated gazes and poorly-hidden gossiping of her coworkers was slowly but surely driving her insane.

"Care to join us for lunch, Pansy?"

She looked up from her desk and threw on her best fake smile for Melinda McCormack. Melinda had all but pretended Pansy didn't exist until a week and a half ago, but now suddenly acted as if they'd been great friends for years. It was pathetic and transparent.

"No thank you, Melinda," she said with false cheer. "I'm actually ahead on my work and have some errands to run, so I was going to leave early today." 

"Oh, too bad," Melinda said with a pout. "We _must_ get together soon though! We have so much to discuss!"

"The first chance I get," Pansy assured her. Tragically, she had a feeling that chance was never going to come. "See you tomorrow." She organized her things and stood up, ready to put another day behind her.

"Bye, dear! Don't have too much fun!" Melinda gave an exaggerated wink, and Pansy had to turn her head quickly so the fool wouldn't see her murderous expression. She had heard far too many suggestive comments like that in the last week and a half. Too many more of them and it was inevitable that she was going to lose her patience, draw her wand and show them all exactly what she thought of being stuck with Harry bloody Potter.

She walked past her coworkers on her way to the door. Two weeks ago they would've completely ignored her but now nearly all of them watched her go, and several of them called out to try and get her attention. The ones she ordinarily found tolerable got a hurried goodbye, but with the others she simply pretended not to hear and kept moving.

Potter had been sitting in a corner that gave him a view of the door, her desk and the room at large. When he saw her approaching he fell into step beside her without a word. That was one good thing, at least. He spoke to her as little as possible, and she happily did the same.

"I need to get some things in Diagon Alley," she stated. He said nothing, but gave a partial nod and continued to walk beside her all the way to the apparition point.

\--

"I'm going to kill someone. Probably him."

"Sure you will, Pans," Millicent said while not bother to hide her eye roll. Few people could get away with that, but Milly was among that select group. Those who didn't know her looked at her size and assumed she was a bully, but she was one of the kindest people Pansy knew. Maybe she'd used her strength to her advantage a few times while at Hogwarts, but was that really any worse than the cruel jokes the supposedly heroic Gryffindors made at her expense?

Milly was loyal to a fault to those who were kind to her. She was Pansy's closest friend, and the only witch who hadn't turned her back on her after the war. That didn't mean Pansy wanted to listen to her make light of her current predicament.

"I came in here so you could cheer me up," Pansy pouted. Milly, unmoved, only chuckled.

"You're always so dramatic, Pansy," she said lightly. "Most women would kill to be in your shoes. Hell, I wouldn't mind it myself. Potter can share my flat any time he wants. My bed too."

"I'm glad you find this so funny! If you want to shag Potter so bad, be my guest! All I want is to be left alone!" she hissed. 

"I know," Milly said. She was no longer smiling, and the humor was gone from her voice as well. "You've had it tough ever since the war ended, Pansy, tougher than any of us. I wish this wasn't happening to you, and not only because you're in danger. I know this is all really hard on you, especially with it being Harry."

"Of course!" she said, slightly mollified now that Milly was taking her seriously. "He's a prat! Just look at him out there with all his fans. I guess his weekly spot in Witch Weekly just wasn't enough for him."

Millicent glanced over Pansy's shoulder, where Harry was standing guard outside the door of Flourish and Blotts. Pansy hadn't really needed anything here, but a chance to spend time with one of her few friends was just what she needed. After inspecting the interior and checking to make sure it was otherwise empty he'd agreed to leave her alone inside with Milly, who ran the counter. They'd been blissfully alone and undisturbed inside the store for the ten minutes she'd been here, but outside was a different story entirely. Word had quickly spread that _Harry Potter_ was at Flourish and Blotts, and he was now surrounded by a mob of fans, well-wishers and arse-kissers.

"Is that really what you think is going on right now?" Milly said, raising one thick eyebrow. "Forget about how much you hate him for a second. Does he look like he's enjoying himself?"

Pansy turned away from her friend and looked through the window. Potter stood still and made no move to tell anyone off or make them go away, but he certainly wasn't smiling. If she didn't know better she would say that he actually looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Don't let him fool you," she grumbled. "I'm sure he's just pretending to be annoyed."

"I don't believe that, and neither do you," Milly said. "I think we both know what this is really about."

"Oh, is that so? How about you explain it to me then?" Pansy said, challenging her. It was rare for Pansy to snap at her friends like this, but Milly more than deserved it at the moment as far as she was concerned.

Most people backed down quickly when on the receiving end of Pansy's temper, but Milly was not most people. She did not flinch in the face of Pansy's defiant stare, merely looking back at her calmly.

"You don't hate being around Harry because of anything he's done. You hate it because it reminds you of what you tried to do, and what it cost you."

Pansy gasped and stared at her friend in disbelief. It had been years since THAT DAY had been brought up by any of her friends, and Milly doing so now felt like a punch in the gut.

"I'm sorry, Pansy, but you know it's true," she said. "I know you hated Potter in school. Hell, I did too. It was practically a requirement for anyone in Slytherin, but it's obvious to anyone who pays attention that most of the stuff we heard about him back then was rubbish. I think you can see that too, or if you can't, it's because you aren't letting yourself see it."

Pansy couldn't believe what she was hearing. Milly was never afraid to speak her mind with those she trusted, but Pansy never thought she'd see the day that her friend would speak in support of Harry bloody Potter. It didn't happen often, but she was momentarily struck speechless.

She was still trying to figure out how to respond when Potter suddenly burst through the door, wand drawn. His lips were pressed together in a grim line, and he moved towards her with a seriousness and a purpose she had not seen in all the days they'd been forced to spend together.

"We have to go. Now," he said. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a Ministry-issued emergency portkey with one hand, and grabbed her arm with the other. She tried to shake him off, but his grip was firm. She only had time to share an astonished look with Milly before the portkey activated.

\--

Potter released her arm once the portkey had deposited them just inside the front door of her flat. He made to walk away further into the flat, but she stepped in front of him to block his path.

"What the hell was that?" Pansy demanded. She wasn't about to let him walk away with zero explanation.

"Someone noticed you inside the shop and made a comment, and then others joined in," he explained. She blinked and shook her head slowly.

"That's it?" she asked, unimpressed. "People insulted me and called me names? I've been dealing with that since I was a kid! Or did you think I never heard you and your Gryffindor friends making fun of my nose?" He did have the grace to look slightly sheepish even as he shook his head. 

"This is different," he said. At least he wasn't trying to deny it. "Some of them were convinced you were about to come out and attack me from behind, and they got it in their heads to strike first."

"How adorable! They wanted to protect their hero from the evil Slytherin witch!" she exclaimed. "Maybe you could have calmed them down by explaining that none of this is my idea and I don't want to be anywhere near you?"

"My assignment is supposed to be a secret, which you know, since that's why everyone in your office had to take an oath to not tell anybody about it. I tried to convince them that I wasn't worried and didn't consider you a threat, but they didn't listen." 

"Maybe they weren't convinced because you don't believe it yourself!" she said.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He didn't answer anger with anger; instead, he looked and sounded confused. It only irritated her more.

"Maybe in the back of your mind you really do think there's a chance I'll curse you when your back is turned, or while you're asleep," she said. He said nothing in response. All he did was stare at her silently, neither confirming nor denying her statement.

She could've just left it at that, marched off and gone back to pretending he didn't exist, but Pansy wasn't in the mood to do that. She didn't know if it was because her adrenaline was still up after that unexpected portkey exit, if Milly's words had gotten her ire up, or if a week and a half of Potter's constant looming presence in her home, her workplace and her life had finally set her off. Maybe it was a combination of all those things. Maybe it was inevitable that they were going to deal with the obvious fly in the cauldron sooner or later. Whatever the case, she wasn't going to ignore it any longer.

"You probably think to yourself, _'Hey, she already tried to get me killed once. Only a matter of time before she gives it another go.'_

There, she'd said it. They'd avoided any mention of the Battle of Hogwarts, but now it was out there and it was time for them to confront it. That was how she felt at least. It didn't seem like Potter wanted to discuss it. She stood there staring at him, hands on her hips, waiting for him to react, but he just stood there and looked at her dispassionately. She wasn't about to give up though. She was still standing in his way, and she wasn't moving until she got some kind of response out of him.

At last he spoke. "Can you really blame me?" he said quietly. "Kids making fun of each other in school is one thing, but you wanted me dead. You wanted me dead and tried to get everyone else to go along with it."

Even if they'd never spoken of it, she knew he felt that way. It was the same way nearly the entirety of the wizarding world felt about her, which was why she was a social outcast working at a nothing job far below her ability or intelligence. Potter's words were nothing new. Honestly, what he said and how he said it was much gentler than the angry, expletive-laden rants that had been a weekly occurrence for at least a year after the war. 

Something about it coming from Potter's lips incensed her and made her want to fight back. She had never bothered to try and explain things from her point of view to anyone outside her circle of friends, because she'd known that no one else wanted to hear it. Even most of those so-called friends had moved to distance themselves from her, whether they were privately sympathetic or not. Explaining herself to Potter was surely even more pointless, but she was in the mood to put the smug bastard in his place.

"Did you ever stop to think that it actually had _nothing_ to do with you?" she said.

He raised his eyebrows, obviously skeptical. "My death had nothing to do with me?"

"That's not my point!"

"What is your point, then? Why'd you try and hand me over to Voldemort if it 'didn't have anything to do with me'?"

"Because I didn't want me or my friends to die in your stupid war!" she shouted.

" _My_ war?" he repeated, and she could definitely hear anger in his voice now. "Are you fucking kidding? Voldemort murdered my parents when I was a baby, and tried to do the same to me! That was HIS war, but he couldn't have done it alone. He never could have become as powerful as he did without people like you and your parents helping him!"

"Don't lump me in with my parents!" she shouted. "What my family did has nothing to do with me!"

"Right, sure it doesn't," he mocked. "Everyone knows the Parkinsons have been dark for centuries, and both your parents served that piece of shite. That's why they're in Azkaban where they belong!" Pansy tugged her work robes off, exposing the sleeveless blouse she wore underneath. She thrust her left arm in his face. 

"Do you see a Dark Mark anywhere on my arm, you git?" He could only shake his head after glancing at the pale, unblemished skin. 

"So you didn't take his mark. Big deal. That didn't stop you from trying to help him."

"I didn't give a shit about him!" she shouted. "I didn't give a shit about you either!"

"No argument there. You've only ever cared about yourself."

"Don't pretend you know a damn thing about me, Potter," she said, pointing her finger at him. "You have no idea the shit I went through that year in Hogwarts while you were doing whatever the hell it was you did with Granger and the Weasel."

"Saving the world, you mean?" he asked rhetorically. "Yeah, I'm sure you had it much tougher inside the castle with the Death Eaters running it."

Pansy glared at him for a moment, then reached a decision. She was about to reveal something she'd never shared with any of her friends, not even Blaise or Milly. She'd fully intended to take it to the grave, but her anger at Potter and her desire to shut him up won out.

"You brought a pensieve with you, right?" she asked. Better to simply show him. 

He blinked, confused by the abrupt change in topic, but nodded slowly. "Yeah. The department gave me one in case the attacker returns." This, as had already been explained to her, was now standard procedure for the aurors in emergency situations. Accessing a suspect's memories via pensieve was considered less invasive than using legilimency.

She walked into the kitchen and pulled out a glass container, into which she deposited the desired memory. She left the container on the kitchen table and walked past Potter, who just stood and watched her, confused.

"Tell me if you still think I had it so easy after you watch that," she said over her shoulder as she reached the door to her bedroom. He said nothing as she entered the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

\--

_"What're you waiting for, Parkinson? Teach the blood traitor her place already!"_

_Pansy nodded as she forced herself to meet "Professor" Alecto Carrow's eyes, but looked away just as quickly. The woman had a manic look on her pudgy face, and it unnerved Pansy._

_Looking down at the blood traitor in question didn't make Pansy feel any better. The first year Hufflepuff girl was absolutely terrified. Pansy had never seen her before and didn't know her name, and Carrow hadn't given it. All Pansy knew was that she'd spoken up against something Carrow had said during her Muggle Studies class, and this was her punishment. Pansy just so happened to be walking down the corridor as Carrow was dragging the girl out by her ear, and the professor had thrown the Hufflepuff to the ground and called Pansy over to assist in her "discipline." And here they were._

_The girl knelt on the floor, staring up at Pansy with tears pooling in her brown eyes. Her whole body shook, and she looked as if she might vomit. Pansy took a deep breath, closed her eyes and drew her wand._

_"That's it, Pansy. A little cruciatus is just what this blood traitor needs." Pansy didn't need to look at Alecto to know how much she was looking forward to this. She could hear the excitement in the woman's voice, and it made her skin crawl._

_Pansy wasn't a nice person. She knew this, accepted it and did not apologize for it. Selfish behavior was actively encouraged in her family. As far as the Parkinsons were concerned, just about any action could be justified so long as it worked to their benefit. She'd never been fond of violence, personally, and had done her best to stay out of the way and avoid attention so far this term. But now she was being called upon, and there was only one option available to her. It wasn't even an option, not really. Torturing this girl would please Carrow and the rest of the Death Eaters, and her family was already deeply involved with the Dark Lord's regime as it was. Parkinsons didn't usually like to get their own hands dirty, and she was no different, but she would have to make an exception in this case. It's not like there was any danger of retaliation or consequences from this defenseless first year anyway._

_She opened her eyes and pointed her wand at the girl, who had lost the battle with her tears. The girl looked up at her pleadingly, and it made Pansy angry. Didn't she understand that there was no way out of this for her? Even if Pansy didn't cast the torture curse, Alecto would either find someone else to do it or cast it herself._

_"Get on with it already!" Professor Carrow was losing her patience, not that she had much of it to begin with. Pansy needed to act, and soon._

_"No." Wait, what? What did she just say?_

_"What's that? You disobeying your professor, Parkinson?" Yeah, Carrow wasn't happy at all now._

_"Yes. I'm sorry, but doesn't using the torture curse seem excessive? Couldn't we just have her, I don't know, clean out all the potion cauldrons?"_

_"I don't believe what I'm hearing." Carrow looked at her with contempt, not unlike the way she was staring down the Hufflepuff girl when she first called Pansy over. "A Parkinson defending a blood traitor? Your father is going to be so disappointed when I tell him about this."_

_"The Parkinsons are loyal followers of the Dark Lord, and so am I," she said nervously. Carrow laughed._

_"Oh really? Tell me then; why haven't you volunteered to help with any punishments before?" Alecto smiled, her lips peeling back to reveal yellowed teeth. "All the other children of Death Eaters have been very helpful in restoring order to this school, but you've done nothing all term. The Dark Lord trusts your parents. They're loyal. But you? I don't trust you at all, girl."_

_Pansy was panicking inside. She didn't know how or why she'd gotten herself into this situation, and all over some Hufflepuff firstie she'd never talked to before. She could feel it spiraling out of control, but she sensed that trying to appease or reason with this woman wasn't going to work at this point. That left only one thing for her to try._

_"It doesn't matter whether you trust me or not, does it?" she said haughtily. "My parents are much more important to the Dark Lord than you are, and if you continue to harass me they WILL hear about it. One word from them and the Dark Lord will take away this measly little scrap of power he's given you and have you cleaning out the hippogriff stalls!"_

_That might have worked on someone else, or on a creature like Carrow previously. But now that she'd been given a taste of real power by the Dark Lord, she was unimpressed by the attempt. She sneered, then slapped Pansy across the face. Pansy's left hand went to her cheek and she stared at the older woman in shock. Her parents might have been strict with her when she disobeyed, but not once had they ever struck her._

_"Ooh, I really hate stuck-up bitches like you," Carrow said, glaring at Pansy with hostile intent. "Just because your mummy and daddy are important, you think that you're better than me? You're not in control here, little girl, and it's time you learn that."_

_Pansy was reeling, standing there in a state of disbelief. Never in her life had she been made to feel so powerless. Parkinsons weren't supposed to be treated this way!_

_"You want to protect the blood traitor? Fine." Carrow directed her attention to the Hufflepuff. "Go to the Great Hall for lunch, girl. You get off with a warning this time. Next time you won't be so lucky."_

_The girl didn't need to be told twice. She got up off her knees and ran away as fast as her small legs could carry her, but not before giving Pansy one last look. Pansy watched her go and made to follow her, but Carrow grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around roughly._

_"Where do you think you're goin'? Someone's getting punished, and since you love protecting blood traitors so much, you can take her place."_

_Carrow brandished her wand, and Pansy's self-defense instincts kicked in. She raised her own wand and prepared to cast a spell. She was a quick caster, but Carrow was even quicker. She used the disarming charm to take away Pansy's wand. All that was left for Pansy was trying to flee, but she only made it a few steps before Carrow uttered one horrible word._

_**"Crucio!"** _

\--

"I owe you an apology."

Damn. Pansy was hoping to avoid this. She wanted to pretend yesterday didn't happen at all, but clearly Potter wasn't going to let her do so.

"No, you don't," she said. She deliberately looked at the ground as she walked past him into the kitchen. "I don't know why the hell I showed you that in the first place."

"I'm glad you did. I needed to see it." He followed her into the kitchen and watched as she pulled the milk out of the refrigerator.

"You'd better not tell anyone," she warned him. "I never even told Milly and Blaise."

"Why not? They're your friends, right? And if they're still with you now even after the fallout from the end of the war, they must be true friends."

"Exactly," she agreed. "They're every bit as loyal to me as Granger and Weasley are to you, and you to them. That's why I didn't tell them, or anyone else I thought was my friend back then. I didn't need anyone else getting on the Carrows' bad side and suffering. And after the war ended we all had bigger things to worry about."

"I get it." He nodded, and looked at her with more warmth than he ever had before. It made her anxious. "So you told no one then? Not even your parents?"

She turned to pour her milk so he couldn't see her face. "I told them."

"And? What did they do?"

"They told me I embarrassed the family by refusing to punish a blood traitor. My mother sent Carrow an owl to apologize for my disobedience." She kept her face turned away and didn't allow her voice to betray her feelings, but that memory would always sting.

"I'm sorry," Potter said quietly. "You deserved better."

"Did I? Don't be so sure about that."

"Of course you did! She wanted you to torture that poor girl, but you did the right thing."

"Maybe. But I didn't do it for the right reasons. I didn't refuse to cast that curse because I'm some stubborn hero like you. I was just too much of a coward to get my hands dirty."

"Is that what you tell yourself? You're wrong." Potter sounded very sure of himself, so she put the milk away and turned back to look at him again. He stepped closer and looked into her eyes earnestly. "That girl was powerless, and Carrow was crazy. The cowardly thing to do would have been casting that curse. That's what your parents would have done, and it's what they taught you to do. But when it came down to it, you did the right thing anyway. That's not cowardice. It's courage." 

Pansy found herself in the previously unimaginable situation of being reassured by Harry Potter, and she didn't know what to say. Part of her, a big part, wanted to bring up the Battle of Hogwarts. How could he think so highly of her when she tried to offer him up to the Dark Lord?

"I should get ready for work," she said instead. He said nothing and merely watched as she grabbed her glass of milk and retreated into her bedroom. For whatever reason, she couldn't bring herself to ask the one question she wanted to, the one that she doubted he could answer. Maybe she was a coward after all.

\--

"Get up."

Pansy's eyes snapped open. Normally she was a deep sleeper and slow to wake, but Harry (when did he cease being Potter and become Harry in her mind?) wouldn't have come into her room without a good reason. She sat up almost immediately and looked to Harry for an explanation. His eyes darted across the room rapidly, watching for any sort of movement.

"Someone's trying to breach the wards," he whispered. She got out of bed as quickly as she could while remaining quiet. She slipped her shoes on, grabbed her wand from her bedside table and looked to Harry for instruction.

He grabbed her hand and closed his eyes. They stood there for about ten seconds, and she was just about to ask him what was happening when he opened his eyes. 

"They've completely blocked apparition and portkey travel," he muttered. "We don't have a way out."

"Isn't that really hard to do?" she whispered, eyes widened. "Does that mean we're dealing with someone really powerful?"

"Not necessarily," he said. He walked to the door in careful, quiet strides and peered out into the corridor. "They could have used intelligence rather than sheer magical power." The thought didn't do much to cheer Pansy. Either her attacker was very strong or very smart. Neither option sounded appealing to her.

"Stand over in the corner with your wand out," he said, still looking out into the corridor. "I'll use this as a defensive position if the wards are broken before backup gets here." Yes, the auror department would've been alerted the moment an attempt was made on the wards. But the response time would likely be slower with it being the middle of the night this time. Her attacker was learning. 

Pansy hated standing there and being able to do nothing, but it was a waiting game at this point. Would Harry's fellow aurors arrive before the wards were broken, and hopefully catch the attacker this time? Or would it be up to Harry to defend them?

Pansy could feel her heart pounding, but she stayed on alert and maintained her death grip on her wand. If Harry was overwhelmed, she wasn't going to go down without a fight.

The alert charm sounded for a few seconds, letting them know the wards had been breached. Then it abruptly cut off and they were left in silence. She itched to move, to yell, to go on the attack. Anything would've been preferable to standing there and waiting helplessly. But Harry remained where he was, wand at the ready.

The front door to the flat opened and was slammed shut. The intruder wasn't bothering to try and move quietly. There wouldn't have been much point in doing so, since the alert would've tipped them off even if Harry hadn't noticed earlier.

Footsteps stomped around in the flat. Harry held up one finger in her direction, which she assumed meant he could only hear one person walking around out there. That was good at least. The man who killed the Dark Lord could handle a single attacker, right?

"Come on out, Parkinson! I know you're in here, and it should be at least five minutes before the aurors show up and get past the little surprise I left them. Let's have some fun!"

Pansy furrowed her brows, thinking. The masculine voice sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it.

" _No,_ " Harry whispered. So he recognized the voice, and whoever it was shocked him.

"Stay focused, Potter," she hissed, just loud enough for him to hear. He didn't look back at her, but she was reassured when she saw him take a deep breath and stand up straighter. He was prepared to do his job regardless of whatever was running through his head at the moment.

The intruder checked in the kitchen and the sitting room, but soon enough his footsteps carried him towards her room. It was only a matter of time now.

Harry waited until the man couldn't have been more than four good strides from her bedroom door, then sprang into action. He flung the door open with his left hand and used his right to cast a spell almost simultaneously. He moved with a practiced fluidity that would've impressed Pansy if she wasn't so anxious.

"Stupefy!" he shouted. Pansy didn't have a great view because Harry's body was purposefully between her and the doorway, but she could hear the attacker's body hit the floor. He'd never even had time to react before being stunned. 

Harry flicked his wand, and thick ropes appeared from nowhere to bind the man's hands together. "Stay here," he said to Pansy. He stepped over the man's unconscious body and out of her bedroom, presumably to check and make sure there wasn't anyone else in the flat.

She cautiously stepped forward and peered down into the face of the unconscious man, and couldn't stifle her gasp. The red hair and freckled face made it easy enough to know she was looking at a Weasley, and the missing ear left no doubt as to which one. She stepped back into the corner hastily as she heard Harry coming back.

"No one else," he confirmed. He didn't step back into the room; instead he crouched down in front of the unconscious George Weasley.

"Thank you," she said. It was inadequate, but she couldn't think of anything better.

"Just doing my job," he said, not looking up. He continued to stare at Weasley with a curiously blank face.

"Yes, you were," she agreed. "Even though he's your friend and I'm, well, me."

"Did you think I was going to let him hurt you just because he's my friend?" he asked, now looking up at her. When the only response she could offer was a shrug, he shook his head. "He's in enough trouble as it is with just destroying property. It would've been much worse for him if he'd actually attacked anyone."

"Even me?" she asked. "I'm sure most people would have said I deserved it." She didn't say it with anger or sarcasm lacing her voice, because it was true and he knew that as well as she did.

"It still would have caused major problems with the other purebloods who feel threatened," he pointed out. "And those people would have been wrong about you, by the way. Just like I was."

"Oh really? Are you about to compliment me, Potter? I'm not sure my delicate heart could handle it." She'd turned to humor to try and deflect, but his words had struck Pansy in ways she wasn't comfortable thinking about. 

He gave her a little half smile that looked more like a grimace, which she supposed was about all he was capable of after being forced to stun his friend. "I'm serious, you know. I don't care what anyone says. You aren't the person everyone thinks you are."

She was still trying to decide whether to reply seriously or with more humor when Harry's fellow aurors broke through whatever "surprise" George had set up and entered the flat. They hurried in, wands drawn and ready for combat, but gradually relaxed when they took stock of the situation. Pansy was mildly surprised to see Tom Proudfoot amongst the group, but she supposed it made sense given the political ramifications. She stood back and watched as they huddled up and Harry explained precisely what had happened.

One of the men began levitating George's unconscious form out of her room, and the other recent arrivals followed him. It was only Harry and Proudfoot who remained in her bedroom with her.

"I'm sure you're both glad to have this resolved, eh?" Proudfoot said. "Now Harry can leave and your lives can go back to normal."

"That's all I've wanted for the last three weeks," she said. It was true, but somehow she wasn't as excited as she'd expected to be now that it was happening. "Are you sure it's over though? Could he have been working with someone else who just didn't come with him tonight?"

"Based on what we know, we think that's very unlikely," he answered. "We'll interrogate George to make sure, but I feel comfortable removing Harry from the inside and leaving someone on patrol nearby until morning. If all goes well, you should be free of us completely sometime tomorrow."

"I can't wait," she said with a smirk. But as she watched Harry leave her room so he could gather the few things he'd brought into her flat and return to his own home, she had to admit she wasn't looking forward to being alone in her flat nearly as much as she thought she'd be.

\--

"You _sure_ you want to put that plate away, Pans? There's still time."

"Yes, Adrian, I'm quite sure," she said firmly. "I don't know what the hell I was thinking in the first place." The three guests at her table all gave her knowing looks.

This Christmas dinner was quite unlike the ones Pansy's parents held when she was growing up. Every year, dozens of the most important members of wizarding society attended a lavish dinner prepared by the Parkinson house elves. Those days were long gone. This year Pansy hosted three guests: Blaise, Milly and Adrian Pucey. She'd cooked a turkey, Adrian brought bread, Blaise prepared potatoes and Milly baked a delicious chocolate cake. Her mother would be appalled at such a low-key and unimportant Christmas dinner, but Pansy was spending the day with the few people in the world who mattered to her, and she wouldn't have it any other way. She'd invited a fifth though, and her friends had been teasing her about it all day.

"I know why," Milly said, grinning at Pansy. "You want to reward your hero, don't you?"

"He's not my hero," she said. "He was just doing his job."

"There's nothing to be ashamed about," Milly said, smiling even wider in response to Pansy's obvious annoyance. "I'd do the same thing. Heck, if you don't want to reward him I'll be happy to do it for you!" She finished with a goofy, exaggerated wink, and Pansy cracked a small smile despite herself.

"I don't think he could handle you, Milly," she said. She picked up the unused fifth plate and returned it to the cupboard. "I guess it's for the best that he didn't show up."

"He hasn't shown up yet," Blaise corrected. "That doesn't mean he isn't coming. He told you he'd be here, and I might not know Potter well, but he usually does the things he says he'll do."

As if on cue, there was a knock on her door at that exact moment. Pansy made her way to answer it, ignoring Milly's wolf whistle.

"Who is it?" she called out as she neared the door. The wards should have alerted her if it was anyone who wasn't welcome, but a little extra caution never hurt anyone.

"It's Harry," came the reply. She opened the door and saw him standing there, holding a present under one arm. She stepped aside and held the door open so he could enter.

"Sorry I'm late," he said. He paused to place the present underneath her artificial Christmas tree, which was slightly to the left of her front door. "Molly wouldn't let me leave until I finished my treacle tart."

"Don't worry about it. Here, I'll take your coat."

"Thanks." He shrugged the coat off so she could place it with the others and followed her into the kitchen. "Happy Christmas," he said, to not just her but her three friends as well. 

"Same to you," Milly said, smiling at him. Blaise and Adrian gave similar greetings.

"Millicent baked a cake for dessert, and there's still some left if you want a piece," Pansy offered.

"That sounds great, but maybe later. No one ever leaves a Molly Weasley dinner wanting more." Milly chuckled and the boys smiled, but said nothing. There wasn't much any of them could say, because Pansy seriously doubted she or her friends would ever share a meal with the Weasley matriarch. It was another reminder of how different their lives were, and for at least the tenth time that day she found herself wondering what had possessed her to invite him here.

"Okay," she said, deciding to change the subject. "Why don't the five of us go into the sitting room and relax?"

"Actually, we were just about to leave," Blaise cut in, standing up from his chair. Milly and Adrian followed suit.

"Oh?" This was the first Pansy had heard about her friends leaving early. "All of you? Where are you going?"

"I've been having problems with my wireless, so the boys are going to take a look at it for me," Milly said, smiling innocently at her. Pansy wasn't fooled.

"Really? And you just have to do that on Christmas day?" she pressed. 

"Oh, yes!" Milly exclaimed. "My Christmas wouldn't be complete without a few hours spent on the couch listening to Celestina Warbeck!"

"I see." The two girls smiled at each other, each knowing full well that Milly detested Celestina Warbeck's singing. Pansy could call her out on it, but the fact that she chose such a blatant lie couldn't have been an accident. Pressing the issue would probably result in more of the teasing Milly had been giving her all day, except now with Harry present to hear it. "Well, I won't keep you then. I'll give you a floo call tomorrow."

"Yes, please do!" Milly said. She reached out and grabbed Pansy's hands. "Then we can tell each other all about our nights!" 

"I can't wait," she said sarcastically. Milly just smiled wider. "Goodnight, you two," she said, looking at Adrian and Blaise. "Thanks for coming."

"Wouldn't have missed it, Pans," Adrian said. Pansy walked her three friends to the door while Harry remained in the kitchen, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

"Have fun, Pansy," Blaise whispered, waggling his eyebrows at her.

"Ugh, not you too," she said with a groan. "Like I haven't heard enough of that from Milly." Milly just giggled and stuck her tongue out at Pansy as the door was closing behind her.

"Meet you in the sitting room?" she called out to Harry as she closed the front door.

"Sure," he replied from the kitchen. "You can bring your present with you if you want."

She did so, grabbing the parcel and carrying it with her. She took a seat on the recliner chair in her sitting room and propped the present on her lap. Harry arrived moments later and took a seat on the couch.

"You didn't have to get me anything, you know," she said.

"I know," he said. "Just a thank you for inviting me, and for what you did for George."

"It's what was best," she said quietly, but they both knew she could've made that entire situation very difficult. Most of the other families he'd targeted had pushed for him to be sent to Azkaban. Had she done the same it very likely would have happened. But after Harry gave her more information about what George's life had been like over the past five years, she decided that wasn't the best thing for him. She joined her voice to that of Harry and the other Weasleys in urging the Wizengamot to sentence him to a stay in the mental health wing of St. Mungo's, where they would hopefully be able to help him defeat his demons. Even her friends were surprised she was so forgiving, but she couldn't help but feel ashamed when she thought of his life after the war. She'd been so self-absorbed and wrapped up in how the war had affected her own life, but her reputation being shattered was nothing compared to the losses others had felt. Even she knew that the Weasley twins had always been inseparable. George hadn't just lost a brother; he'd lost a piece of himself. 

"It was," he agreed. "But a lot of people wouldn't have done it."

"You would have." 

"I'd like to think so," he said with a shrug.

"You would have," she repeated. "You forgave me."

"I don't think there was much to forgive, not after I saw things from your perspective. You were just trying to keep your friends from getting hurt. I can respect that."

"Thank you," she whispered. While she'd always felt her actions that day had been justifiable, hearing it from Harry eased her conscience more than she'd thought it might. They settled into a silence, but it was a comfortable one. Who would've ever thought she'd feel comfortable sitting in her flat with Harry Potter?

"Open your present," he suggested, breaking the silence. She didn't need much prompting there; she'd always loved opening gifts. She eagerly tore into the reindeer-patterned wrapping paper, and her eyes widened when she saw what he'd given her.

The large, ornate silver picture frame was lovely and matched her tastes perfectly, but that wasn't what had caused her reaction. Inside the frame, Adrian, Blaise, Milly and herself smiled, laughed and waved back at her. She knew this picture. The four of them had spent a weekend together in Barcelona last year, and it was one of the fondest memories of her life. Milly had this same picture in her flat, but it was much smaller and in a cheaper frame.

"Millicent gave me the picture, but it was my idea and I picked out the frame," he said. "I hope you like it."

"It's lovely. Thank you." She could feel her emotions threatening to burst and took a deep breath to steady herself. He probably thought she was strange already for inviting him over for Christmas after all they'd been through. If she broke down crying over a picture he'd think she was a nutter for sure.

"I'm glad you like it," he said. "I know how important your friends are to you, so I thought it might be a good idea. Millicent assured me it was, but I was still pretty nervous giving it to you."

"No more nervous than I was, waiting to see if you'd show up today," she blurted without really thinking, then winced.

"I promised I would," he said. "I was happy you invited me, to be honest."

"Oh? Didn't get enough of me before?" she teased, smirking at him. He looked at her quite seriously.

"Not really, no. Most of the time I was here we were too busy either arguing or ignoring each other. I feel like I was only just starting to see the real Pansy when it ended."

"And you want to get to know the real Pansy?" she asked, getting up from her chair and crossing the few steps over to the couch. She wasn't teasing anymore. 

"I do," he said, nodding despite looking confused about why she'd suddenly stood up and walked to stand in front of him. "I'd like to think we could be friends."

"Friends," she repeated. "No, I don't think so." He looked hurt for a moment, but that quickly changed to shock when she sat on his lap. He said nothing, just stared at her with his mouth hanging open. She took his lack of outright rejection as a positive sign, but she wanted more than that before she went any further. She sat there and slowly, teasingly ground her hips against him, waiting for him to react.

"Is this really happening?" he murmured. His hands rested on her back. The physical contact was nice, but she hoped he'd set those hands in motion soon.

"If you want it to," she said. Pansy lowered her head and brought her lips to his neck. She could feel him shiver as she kissed him just below the jaw, and her lips made their way upwards.

"I...wow, I wasn't expecting this," he said. She gently nibbled his earlobe, and he groaned. His hands slowly started to rub her back, and she smiled after releasing his ear. She'd prefer to feel those hands somewhere else, but it was a start.

"You aren't alone," she whispered into his ear. "I wasn't expecting to ever find you attractive, but here we are. I've taken us this far. The rest is up to you. Do you want this, Harry? Do you want me?" She pulled her head back to look at him and awaited his decision.

"I don't really do one night stands," he said. She frowned at him.

"Who said anything about this being a one night stand?" she asked. "I'm not that kind of girl." He shook his head quickly.

"I didn't mean it like that," he assured her. She was still annoyed, but his hands rubbing soothing circles across her back felt nice enough to keep her from getting off of his lap. "So are you saying you want to actually, like, date?"

"Maybe." She shrugged. "I'm not about to declare my love for you, and I'll hex your bollocks off if you even think about giving me a ring any time soon. But I'm not going to shag you and then send you on your way, if that's what you're worried about."

Harry seemed to think about that for a few seconds, and then he grinned. "Good enough for me." He leaned his head forward and kissed her. There was nothing tentative about his kiss. It was urgent, demanding, almost possessive. She loved it.

His hands began exploring as well. He skimmed down her back until he reached her arse, and he squeezed it firmly with both hands. She moaned in approval and ran her hands through his hair, messing it up even further beyond its perpetually mussed state.

"Do you want to do this here, or in your bed?" he asked in between kisses. She groaned, wanting to shut off her brain and enjoy the feeling of his hands creeping up her shirt and rubbing her bare skin, but the question deserved an answer.

"Neither," she decided after a moment. His hands stopped moving, which was rather unfortunate. Apparently he'd misunderstood. "There's something else I've always wanted to try."

"I'm listening," he said, but she could hear the uncertainty in his voice.

"You'll have to trust me," she said. She got off his lap and walked out of the sitting room. "Come on." To make sure he followed, she stripped off her blouse and tossed it at him. If the sight of her in her lacy red bra wasn't enough to compel him to follow her wherever she asked, nothing would be.

She could hear his footsteps not far behind as she opened the door to her bedroom, but she was still far enough ahead that she was able to pause long enough to slip her loose, comfortable trousers off and let them hit the carpet. He groaned behind her, and she grinned. His eyes were undoubtedly glued to her backside, now on display in her matching red thong. She was well aware that she had an amazing arse, and now he was getting to watch it sway back and forth as she moved.

Once she made it into her bathroom, Pansy decided to close and lock the door behind her. She chuckled at Harry's indignant shout. Teasing him was fun, and besides, he wasn't going to be angry for long.

She slipped off her socks and thong, unsnapped her bra and piled them all on top of the laundry basket. Her wand she set on top, but not before she used it to unlock the door. 

"You can come in now," she said, stepping into the shower and turning it on. She made sure that the water temperature was mild and the stream wasn't at maximum strength. While she'd never tried this before, she had a feeling neither of them would enjoy being doused full-blast by overly hot water. 

"Really funny," Harry grumbled several seconds later when he entered the bathroom. He stopped in his tracks as he took stock of the situation. "In the shower, huh?"

"Like I said, I've always wanted to try it." She ran a washcloth across her neck and down her chest, more to tease him through the clear shower door than out of any legitimate desire to wash herself. "You'll have to get out of those clothes first, of course."

"Done." She watched through the shower door as Harry shed his clothing in what had to be record time. He was eager to get in with her, and well he should be.

"So nice of you to join me," she said as he opened the door and stepped into the shower. She was looking over her shoulder at him, trying to be playful and seductive, but he went and ruined it by spinning her around and claiming her lips in another heated kiss. Oh well; if he wanted to skip playtime and get right down to business, she would happily oblige him. Her hand went straight for the prize, and she liked what she found. Not even fully erect yet, and already quite promising. He'd surely be ready soon if they kept doing what they were doing, but Pansy was feeling impatient. Time to speed things along.

She maneuvered them so he was facing the shower head, then pushed on his chest just enough to break their kiss. Before he even had a chance to protest, she dropped to her knees in front of him. She gave him a few soft, experimental strokes and lightly licked at the tip. 

"I have to say, even back when we were in school and we hated each other, I had a fantasy about you sucking me off," he said. Pansy smirked up at him and chose that moment to make his old fantasy into a reality. She parted her lips and welcomed the head into her mouth.

It had been far too long since Pansy had a partner on whom to put her skills to use, but she was damn good. Harry quickly had the pleasure of finding that out for himself. Many women thought that all they needed to do was bob their heads up and down as fast and as deep as they could manage, but she knew better. While her mouth and tongue did their work, one hand stroked him and the other gently fondled his bollocks.

"Yeah, definitely better than any fantasy," he said, sighing. She sincerely hoped that his vision was good enough without his glasses for him to see her face clearly from this distance. Eye contact was an essential component of any successful blowjob in her experience, and she was giving him the best naughty look she could manage.

Her initial objective had long since been accomplished, and now Pansy was faced with a decision. She had little doubt that if she kept at it, she could finish him within a few minutes, five tops. And while part of her very much wanted to swallow his seed, she was rather antsy to take this to the next level. It had, after all, been well over a year since she'd had anything but her fingers, her toys and her vivid imagination at her disposal. While she hoped for multiple encounters throughout the night, and well into tomorrow if all went well, she felt she was long overdue for some satisfaction. She released him from her mouth, giving the head a parting kiss before she got off of her knees and back on her feet.

While she'd fantasized about being picked up and held against the shower wall for a heated shag, it didn't seem practical. Instead she grabbed onto the steel shower rail with both hands and bent over at the waist. This presented her bum to his gaze, and she wiggled it at him.

"Do it," she commanded, staring back over her shoulder at him with narrowed eyes.

He didn't bother to reply verbally, instead stepping forward and into position behind her. He rubbed her wet bum and gave it a playful swat. Usually she'd be all in favor of a bit of light spanking, but there was only one thing she wanted at the moment. 

"I'm not joking," she warned him. "Fucking get on with it already!"

Thankfully he did not offer some kind of sarcastic quip or do something else to tease her even further, as most of her previous partners would have in the same situation. He seemed to realize just how much she needed this, and so he gave her what she needed. Without further delay, he grabbed onto her hip with his left hand and used his right to guide his prick inside of her.

Oh, how Pansy had missed this! She sighed as he slowly entered her and gradually started to move. It was probably for the best that he took it easy at first; it had been awhile for her, and he was a good size to boot. But she adjusted quickly, and soon his moderate pace just wasn't enough anymore.

"Harder," she asked, and he obliged her. He grabbed her hips with both hands and began thrusting into her quickly. 

"How's that?" he asked.

"Perfect," she assured him. "Just like that!" Pansy held onto the rail tightly with both hands and closed her eyes, savoring the moment. It had been far too long since she'd been with anyone, and even longer since she'd received a thorough shagging like this. Harry was giving her exactly what she needed. Her body rocked forward with every thrust of his hips, and the slapping of skin on skin mixed with the water flowing down from the shower head provided a soundtrack unlike any other she'd yet heard. She was tempted to push her own body backwards into his thrusts for even harder contact, but between the wet floor and tighter quarters of the shower, she decided it wasn't the best idea. He was doing just fine on his own anyway, so she would just stand there and leave the work to him. That wasn't her usual attitude in the bedroom (or shower, in this case), but there would be plenty of time for her to take control later on tonight. And tomorrow. And maybe the next day, and the day after that...

Her eyes opened wide when his right hand left her hip and drifted down to her clitoris. As much as she had already been thoroughly enjoying herself, this was a welcome addition indeed. Only one of her four previous partners had been considerate enough to do this for her without coaxing, and his attempts, while admirable and appreciated, paled in comparison to what Harry was currently giving her. In direct contrast to the rough shagging he was giving her, his fingers rubbed at her clit gently. It was just what she needed. She had already been well on her way to a climax, and now it approached even more rapidly. Pansy bit down on her bottom lip and moaned her appreciation. Who would have thought that Harry Potter would give her the best orgasm of her life thus far?

 _'I guess Witch Weekly knew what they were talking about after all,'_ she thought to herself, internally amused. And then she couldn't think of anything at all other than the pleasure coursing through her.

When she eventually came back to her senses she realized that Harry had stopped moving, though he remained buried inside of her. She brushed her hair out of her face and craned her neck to look over her shoulder at him, and he gave her a goofy smile, one which she returned.

"How close are you?" she asked, relaxing her two-handed death grip on the shower rail. 

"Close," he said quietly. She got the feeling that it was only with great effort that he restrained himself from pushing on towards his own end, but she was glad he'd done so. In their eagerness, there was something very important they'd forgotten to establish.

"I haven't taken my contraceptive potion in months, so thank you for not coming inside me," she said. He nodded in understanding, and then his look turned mischievous.

"So you don't want a miniature Harry crawling around here?" he asked with mock outrage.

"With your hair, and your ingrained hero complex? No thank you," she teased. "Pull out, and I'll finish you off." He nodded again and slowly pulled out of her with a sigh. She let go of the shower rail entirely and stood back upright once more.

Her hand immediately went to his penis, which remained rock hard. Knowing there was no need for a preamble, she got into a solid rhythm right away. After perhaps a dozen pumps, give or take, she felt him twitch in her hand and knew the end was neigh.

Her plan had been to point him so he'd shoot down near the drain, but a rather naughty idea suddenly came to her. It was something she'd never done before, but if ever there was a time and place to try it, inside a running shower was it. Besides, he'd earned a little treat.

She dropped to her knees once again, but she didn't take him back into her mouth. The former Slytherin resumed her stroking, her hand nearly a blur as it jerked up and down his entire length. As she'd thought, he'd been right on the edge. His groans would've given him away if she hadn't already been expecting it, but it didn't matter. She had no intention of backing off.

Pansy kept stroking and aimed him straight out in front of her. She closed her eyes just as the first spurt hit her forehead. It trickled down her face, where it was joined by a second across the cheek, a third near her lips and a weaker fourth deposit on her chin. She continued to wank him until she was satisfied he was completely spent, then opened her eyes and looked up at him.

"Bloody hell," he said, staring down at her with what she was pretty sure was awe. Her spur of the moment facial likely lacked the full visual effect it would've had if her face had been dry, but based on his reaction she felt it was safe to say she still made quite a sight. She smirked up at him and made a show of running her tongue across her lips.

"I guess it's a good thing I'm in this shower, because I'm a dirty girl," she purred. Harry snorted and shook his head.

"Wow, that was corny as hell," he said. She giggled and shrugged, feeling playful, silly, satisfied and content.

"I didn't hear you complaining when I let you cum on my face," she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Never," he said quickly. "Feel free to do that whenever you want."

"Oh really? Be careful what you wish for. I might stroll into the Ministry building and suck you off for the entire world to see. Imagine how much the Daily Prophet would love THAT cover story!"

He just rolled his eyes and held out his hand to help her to her feet, which she accepted. She stepped into the shower stream to wash off the remnants of the facial, then shut it off. Harry pulled the shower door open and stood to the side so she could exit first, which drew a smile from her.

"Always the gentleman, even after cumming all over a girl's face," she drawled. He followed her out of the shower and gave a mock bow.

"Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Chosen One, Man-Who-Won and Slayer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, at your service," he pompously declared. They shared a smile, and she reminded herself that it wasn't all that long ago that she'd believed he actually cared about all the titles and fame the public bestowed on him. Thank Merlin she'd been wrong. 

"Don't forget Witch Weekly's Most Eligible Bachelor," she reminded him. She handed him a towel, but rather than grabbing one for herself she stood still in front of him, waiting to see what he would do. He did not disappoint her; without a word, he began drying her off. That's exactly what she'd expected him to do. Despite the earlier teasing, he truly was a gentleman. Albeit a gentleman who spent more time toweling her breasts than strictly necessary.

"I guess I can add personal towel boy to my list of titles," he mused as he crouched down to dry her legs.

"Surely the greatest of your accomplishments," she declared. He just chuckled and continued, moving around to work on her back side. This time he started with her feet and worked his way up, and she was unsurprised when he paid special attention to her bum. He even rubbed both cheeks with his hands to make sure they were completely dry.

"So what comes next?" he asked once he got up and started drying her back.

"First, I'll help you dry off," she said. "Fair is fair, after all. Then we'll get dressed, go into the kitchen and eat the rest of Milly's cake."

"Didn't you already have a piece?" 

"I did." She took the towel from his hands and ran it through her hair, then tossed it aside and grabbed a fresh one to use on Harry. "But I think I earned a second piece, don't you?"

"Definitely."

"I thought you might agree." She began drying him off, returning the favor. It was no imposition though; she enjoyed looking at and touching his body.

"And after the cake?" he asked.

"After the cake, and maybe a nice glass of tea, I'm hoping you'll be ready for another go." He smiled widely and nodded. "Depending on how long that takes, I may be ready for bed once we're done."

"I thought you said you weren't going to shag me and send me on my way," he said. He was grinning, but she couldn't tell if he really was amused or if he was just trying to play at nonchalance. It was no secret his relationship with the female Weasley hadn't ended well. Maybe the bad breakup had made him insecure.

"Just because I'm going to bed doesn't mean I'll be kicking you out," she commented while drying his abs. "It's been a long time since I shared my bed with anyone. I'm hoping that'll end tonight."

"Sounds good to me," he said, grinning. "I can make breakfast when I wake up tomorrow. You know, to thank you for being a good host and all."

"I'll definitely take you up on that. Not first thing in the morning, though. I'm not exactly a morning person, but I probably don't need to tell you that after all the time you've spent here."

"Yeah, I had a pretty good idea. I can still remember that time you threatened to hex me for 'pouring my pumpkin juice too loudly'."

"It's not my fault you stumble around like a troll," she said with a huff. Her drying complete, Pansy disposed of the second towel and slipped her underwear back on. Since she'd ditched her blouse and trousers before she made it to the bathroom, she would just have to stick with her bra and thong for the time being. She doubted he would mind. "That being said, I think I'll be much more pleasant company tomorrow morning if you give me a special wake-up call."

"Is that right? What did you have in mind, and how could it possibly be better than the smell of sizzling bacon?"

"Sizzling bacon is good," she conceded. "But I'd much rather wake up with your head between my legs." Harry laughed, but she would bet good galleons that she was going to receive a very pleasant day-after Christmas present when she woke up the next morning.

"I remember when I couldn't wait to get the hell out of this flat," he mused, pulling his trousers back on and redoing the button and zip. "Now I'm not sure I ever want to leave."

Pansy knew the feeling. Who would've ever thought that she would find herself sharing her flat, her shower, and soon enough her bed with Harry Potter? But they'd be seeing a lot more of each other in the days, weeks and months to come if she had her way.

"Come on," she said holding out her hand. He took it, and they left her bathroom hand in hand. "Let's go eat that cake."


End file.
